She grabs me by the arm.

  “Lex, if you can’t get the Dox to work, you are risking everything for this girl. You could tear time apart.”

  I look at her flatly. “I know.”

  She glares at me, as if to be sure I’m not going to change my mind before she answers. “Fine. Then I’m going with you.”

  I pull my arm free. “No. I won’t risk you. I’ll go alone. It’s safer that way.”

  She folds her arms over her chest and shoots me her unimpressed look. It’s eerily similar to the one Mother used to give me when I’d bring home boxes of frogs from the gardens.

  “Safer for whom, exactly?” She was flowing, speaking in perfect Russian again. “If you’re stupid enough to risk the whole of existence in order to rescue this girl, then I’m stupid enough to go with you.”

  I can’t help but chuckle. “Fine.”

  But Stein’s voice echoes in my head, ripping the smile off my face as her words come back to haunt me.

  It’s your funeral.

  TWENTY

  EMBER

  Sleeping in a stranger’s room is like wearing someone else’s clothes. It feels awkward and uncomfortable, even more so considering whose room it is. Stein. Lex’s girlfriend. Correction—Lex’s dead girlfriend. I stare down, and somewhere in the back of my mind I’m honestly wondering if my brother has ever been in this bed. Gagging, I tear the pillow off the bed and toss it onto the only clean spot on the floor. Under the pillow, a strip of film flutters. I pick it up. Lex and the girl with the top hat from the World’s Fair are smiling and making faces in the four tiny squares.

  I can’t believe it. She’s the same girl who almost killed me. Does that mean he was there too? I can’t help but wonder how many times we’d been that close, missing each other by minute tricks of fate. I toss the photos aside.

  The room itself looks like a tornado has blown through, depositing scraps of clothing on every possible surface. I have to physically restrain myself from tidying up. When I kick a lone boot under the bed, it hits something with a clunk. Curiosity gets the better of me. I get down on my hands and knees, tugging the metal box free.

  My fingers hover hesitantly over the latch on the metal box. There’s no lock, just the remnants of a hinge. I know I shouldn’t open it. It’s obviously private, but I can’t help myself. Setting my jaw, I open it slowly to find my brother’s face staring up at me. I lift the fragile scrap of paper where a rough sketch of Lex smirks in hard, lead lines. There’s another beneath it. This time it’s just his eyes, but it’s undeniably him.

  I wonder if she drew them. They are really good, I admit reluctantly, biting my lip. I don’t want to like her, this girl who has worked her magic on my little brother. I really want to hate her. If not for her, we could have been long gone from here by now.

  I toss the pictures aside and dig through the box. Pieces of fabric, drab costume jewelry. Feathers. A set of brass knuckles. I spread the items out around me, trying to use them to somehow piece together a mental picture of her, to see someone other than the girl who served me a major league beat-down at the World’s Fair.

  I don’t like what I see.

  I put the items back and then kick the box underneath the bed. I should try to sleep, but the call of curiosity is too strong, so I walk over to the closet. There are maybe three pairs of black leather pants, a couple black satin corsets, and one long black trench coat hanging from a rope strung wall to wall. I’m about to mumble something nasty when I spy a scrap of pink poking out from the very back. I grab it and pull. The dress in my hand can only be described as “Bubblegum-Barbie-Goes-to-Prom.” The laugh that escapes my throat is bordering on hysterical, I realize, and I slap my hand over my mouth.

  It’s too much. I don’t want to be here. Somewhere down the hall a train whistle blows and I jump, throwing the dress back in the closet and slamming the door. Curling up in a little ball on the floor, I pull the Tether off my arm and twist my hair under me. My heart is racing.

  After tossing and turning for what feels like hours, I crawl out of my makeshift bed and open the door. A random, dark-haired girl in goggles is sitting cross-legged across the hall from my door.

  “Hey,” I say, feeling awkward as she stares at me. “You my babysitter or something?”

  She looks at me quizzically. “No, why? Do you need one?”

  I sigh and fold my arms across my chest. The lights are low but the air is hot and thick. Nothing about this place feels like home to me.

  “Then why are you sitting out here?”

  The girl shrugs. “It’s quiet.”

  She’s petite but really toned. She’s wearing a black tank top under scraps of brown leather, pieced together to form a sort of corset under her bust. Her grey cargo pants have been haphazardly patched over with what I assume are pieces of the Hollows’ common room sofa.

  “I’m Ember,” I whisper, not wanting to wake anyone else who might still be sleeping.

  “Sisson,” she answers, pulling at the fraying hem of her pant leg.

  “Do you know where my brother’s room is?”

  She points down the hall. “Around the corner. Third door on the right.”

  “Thanks.”

  “But he’s not in there,” she adds as I move to step away.

  I rotate back to her, trying to not be irritated. “Then where is he?”

  She jerks her head down the other hall. “Half-pipe.”

  “Well, thanks again, I guess.”

  She doesn’t say anything else as I walk away, but I can feel her watching me.

  Somehow I manage not to get lost making my way back to the main room. True to her word, I find Lex sitting on top of the half-pipe, his legs hanging over the edge.

  “Gimme a hand,” I say, taking a run at the wall. I get more than halfway up when he grabs my hand and pulls me the rest of the way.

  “You couldn’t sleep, either?” he asks as I sit beside him.

  “Nope.”

  He pulls a dingy jester’s hat off his head and stuffs it in his pocket. “No offense, sis, but I think I’m all talked out.”

  I lay my head on his shoulder. “Yeah, me too.”

  We sit like that for a while. Neither of us talks. The room is lit, but there’s no one else around. Finally I straighten, ready to leave him to his thoughts. But when he turns to look at me, his face is red and tears have left trails down his face.

  Instantly, I’m crying too. There’s no sound, just the gush of emotions too fast and confusing to hold onto. He leans over, laying his head in my lap. I stroke his hair like I used to when we were little.

  Our first night in captivity, after the soldiers had taken our family, my sisters and I had to share an old mattress. Alexei was supposed to be sleeping with Mama and Papa, but in the middle of the night he’d come to me, crying silently so he wouldn’t wake them. I’d held him all night, stroking his hair just like this, while a soldier glared at us from the corner of the room.

  We never talked about it, and Alexei never let Papa see him cry. But during that long year, we shared many nights just like this.

  “Baby, are you asleep?”

  “No. And don’t call me that. I’m thirteen now,” he mumbles with his back to me as we lie across from each other in the dark room. The floor is cold under me and I’m sure it must be worse for him. I at least have Olga curled next to me. He’s all alone under the threadbare quilt.

  “Do you want to come over here with us?”

  He’s quiet, and for a second I think he’s fallen asleep. But just as I’m about to roll over, he stands, wrapping his only blanket over his arm. He folds it out across Olga and me, and curls in beside me.

  “I know you aren’t a baby anymore, Alexei. But you’ll always be my baby brother. No matter how big you get.” Exhaustion rolls over me and I yawn. “I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.”

  “Promise?” he asks, only a slight tremble in his voice. Down the hall, the sounds of heavy boots march down the stairs. The guards are ending their shift. It’ll be morning soon.

  “I promise.”

  It feels so strange now, those memories. I wanted them so badly, but at the same time, part of me wishes I could forget. How pathetic is that?

  * * *

  I’ve just barely closed my eyes and settled in to rest when the gas lamps on the wall flare bright red. The sound of boots stomping past my door makes me jolt upright. I’m not sure how long I’ve been asleep, but someone has covered me with a scratchy wool blanket, which I toss aside immediately. I stand and it takes me a full minute to get my bearings. Just as I step forward, the door flies open and Lex pokes his head in.

  “Um, Ember? I think you have a guest. Better go claim him before Bruce shoots him with the cannon.”

  I practically fly down the hall and into the main room, where Ethan is handcuffed to the support rail beside the half-pipe.

  “Two intruders in two days,” Bruce grumbles. “Did someone put out the welcome mat?”

  Beside him, two young boys I don’t recognize chuckle. Lex shoots them a stern glare.

  “Is he yours?” Lex leans over and whispers.

  But I’m already moving. How could I possibly miss someone so much in such a short span of time? I rush him, wrapping my arms around him, and squeezing him until he has to tap out.

  “Can’t. Breathe,” he chokes.

  His non-cuffed arm wraps around my waist and pulls me tight to his body. Now I’m the one who can’t breathe. Pulling back just enough that our foreheads are still pressed together, I inhale the familiar scent of him.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, not really caring. I’m just so glad he is.

  “I told you I’d come for you,” he answers, raking his fingers through my hair and sending tingles down my back.

  “It’s only been a day,” I whisper in a weak excuse for protest.

  He straightens, adjusting his vest. “As soon as I saw you vanish, I knew I couldn’t let you go alone. I left almost right after you did.” Grinning guiltily, he adds, “I know I said I’d wait, but I just couldn’t.”

  I should be upset that he didn’t do as I asked, but it’s really hard to be angry with him looking at me like that.

  “Who is he?” one of the Hollows interrupts.

  “Who’s the hot guy?” a girl with frizzy ginger curls asks.

  From the hall behind me, Sisson enters the room. “What does he want?”

  “Yes, who are you and why are you groping my sister?” Lex calls from the corner of the room, where he’s picked up a mean-looking katana.

  I roll my eyes and Ethan clears his throat.

  “His name is Ethan,” I answer loud enough for the room full of onlookers to hear. “And he’s my…he’s mine. He’s mine.” I say the last words with my eyes locked on his, and when they glint in delight, I know I’m right. He’s mine.

  “Ember, take a step back, please,” Lex says, his voice tight as he moves toward us, sword still in hand.

  “Relax, Lex. He’s with me. He’s not a bad guy.”

  “He’s the guy from the pier,” Lex says, pointing the katana at Ethan. “The one who nearly killed me. You want what? For us to kiss and make up? I don’t think so.”

  “You mean like how your girlfriend tried to light me on fire at the World’s Fair?”

  “Besides, you aren’t really my type. No offense,” Ethan chimes in.

  “Not helping,” I mumble out the corner of my mouth.

  Lex mumbles, “She didn’t know who you were. To me. She just…I mean, come on. Really not the point.”

  “But you, knowing who Ethan is to me, would still threaten him?” I glare, folding my arms across my chest. Lex frowns.

  “I say we take him downstairs and let some of Nobel’s machines have their way with him,” Bruce says with a big grin.

  I point at him. “I’d like to see you try.”

  At this point things get a little out of hand. Some scrawny dude grabs me by the arm and pulls me into the crowd, yelling, “Get him, Lex.”

  I dart to the side, punch him in the throat, and sweep his legs out from under him. The burly one moves toward me, but before he can take two steps Ethan leaps onto his back, putting him in a choke hold. His brass cuffs are still dangling from the pipe. I laugh. He’s like Houdini, but with better hair.

  No one moves to the burly one’s defense, but Lex throws the sword. It narrowly misses both of them and impales the far wall with a twang.

  “Get off him,” Lex orders, his voice calm but stern. Ethan glances over to me. Then, seeing my nod, he lets go. The burly one drops to his knees, and Ethan kicks him forward.

  Ethan glares at Lex with fire in his eyes. “If your friend ever touches Ember like that again, I’ll rip his arms off. How’s that?”

  Lex swings his gaze to the one who grabbed me. “You won’t have to.”

  Ethan tries to step around Lex, moving toward me, but Lex stops him with a backhand to the chest. “I still don’t trust you.”

  At this point, I erupt into Russian. “Lex, leave him alone.”

  He just stares at me, a tic working in his jaw. Finally, he steps aside and Ethan reaches me in an instant. He takes my hand and pulls it to his mouth, kissing my fingers.

  Lex looks like he might vomit but turns away. “How did you get here, anyway?”

  Ethan reaches into his pocket and pulls out a Peacekeeper. It’s wearing a tiny steel collar, and most of its limbs have been removed. Only one little leg is still twitching.

  A man in a train-shaped wheelchair rolls into the room. I vaguely remember him from my own arrival. Gloves, I think his name is. Personally, I’d have gone with Wheels.

  “I’ll take that,” he says, holding out his hand. Ethan glances at me and I nod. He hands it over, then rakes his hand through his blond hair.

  “Might as well put up a sign,” Lex mumbles, spreading his hands through the air. “Secret lair this way.” He turns back to me. “You expecting anyone else we should know about?”

  I look to Ethan and mouth, “Kara?” He frowns but shrugs.

  I bite my bottom lip, and Lex throws his hands in the air. Pointing at Ethan and me, he growls. “Great. You two, with me.”

  Stuffing his hat over his unruly hair, he leads us up to the roof. We spill out into the bright midday sun.

  A feeling of peace washes over me as the light warms my face. At least until Lex spins, his finger inches from Ethan’s face.

  “Why are you here?”

  Ethan frowns, and I can almost read his mind. Lex is gimpy thanks to the fake leg. He’s alone. No one can hear us up here. If this were a tactical situation, he’d be toast by now. But Ethan takes a deep breath and points to me.

  “I’m here for her. So back off.”

  Lex snorts and steps back. He pushes his hand into his pocket and pulls out a handful of bottle caps. He rubs them between his fingers and squeezes his eyes shut. I reach into my own pocket, and then walk over to him.

  “Here.” I hold out my hand. “Ethan found it in the vault. He gave it to me after you left. I’ve been holding onto it for you.”

  He laughs dryly, taking the small metal disc. “I remember when you gave me these,” he says to me. He looks away, over the ledge and toward the woods.

  Reaching back in my mind I try to bring the memory out, but it’s blank. I shake my head.

  “I don’t remember. I’m sorry. I wish I did.”

  He doesn’t look at me. “No, you don’t. It was the day our family died.”

  I swallow hard. And here I thought all my memories had been restored. The realization that there are still gaps hits me like a punch in the stomach.

  “Tesla did something to me. Made me forget.”

  He looks at me now. “No. It’s the stream. None of us remember back beyond our first rift.”

  I sigh. “No. I started having these dreams. Memories. They took them away. And I…” I pause, unable to swallow past the lump in my throat, “I let them. Lex, I’m so sorry.” I reach out to touch his arm but he flinches away.

  “It’s not your fault,” he mumbles, climbing down. “Tesla did this.” He looks at me, rage cutting canyons between his eyes. “He has to pay.”

  I take a deep breath. “Lex, Tesla isn’t the bad guy here. Sure, his methods are—”

  “Are you kidding me? How is Tesla not the bad guy? He took you away from me.”

  I snap back, “Actually, if he’d had his way we’d both have ended up in the same place, at the Institute. It was your friends down there who separated us. You wanna blame someone for that, blame them.”

  He stomps off before turning back to me, pointing to the building under our feet. “Those people are my friends. They have my back.”

  I take a step toward him but he cocks his head, glaring at me.

  “Lex, they may be your friends, but they aren’t the good guys here. Tesla taught us to protect the time stream. All he wants is to keep your friends from doing too much damage. He wants to help people.”

  The look on his face is stunned disbelief. “Help people? Are you kidding me? The only person Tesla wants to help is himself. You know why there’s so many of us and so few of you?”

  I don’t say anything because I’m not sure where he’s going. He continues.

  “Because Tesla dumps his cast-offs in the stream. Alone and scared. He just leaves them to fend for themselves. We are the ones that pick them up. We take them in, and give them a home. A safe place.”

  “All you do is steal things and screw with history.”

  “Yes, we steal. We steal things no one will miss to keep food on the table and coal in the furnace. And as for screwing with time, yeah, we do. So what? Who says time is better off without being tweaked here and there?”

  “Tesla says. He can predict how your actions will affect people and—”

  He cuts me off again. “And you trust him why?”

  I open my mouth to say something, but I’m honestly not sure how to respond to that. We trust him because we are taught to. Because he tells us he’s right. I look to Ethan who is standing behind me, looking much calmer than I feel.

  “What did you do with the plans?”

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27